


Special Treatment

by moonstruckfool



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Comedy, Conflict of Interests, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, F/M, How Do I Tag, Ministry of Magic, Teasing, Theseus Scamander is a Bad Sibling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 07:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21012140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstruckfool/pseuds/moonstruckfool
Summary: Horny Tina, jerk big bro Theseus, and how to hide a hickey in a room full of detectives





	Special Treatment

She rushes into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, panting heavily. By the office clock, she's only about ten minutes late, but she curses under her breath anyway. She's never late.  _ Never. _ In fact, she's nearly always been at least half an hour early. Yes, she overslept, but she'd still have made it in time were it not for… Her face is probably already red from running, but she swears it heats up even more.

Her colleagues greet her with slightly amused "Good morning, Goldstein"s and she smiles and nods in return. She heads to her desk to put her bag down, but-

"GOLDSTEIN!" Theseus stands in the doorway of his office, arms crossed sternly. "In my office. Now."

She exchanges a look with Augustus Fawnfellow, her deskmate, and he shrugs and mouths " _ Good luck. _ "

He closes the door behind them as she enters his office and sheds her coat. She's no idea why he's doing this, is it because she's late? Is she being transferred to another department because he's Newt's brother? But why now? 

"Theseus- Sir- I'm so sorry I'm late, it won't happen again." 

He nods in understanding, and gestures for her to sit down. "Domestic bliss suiting you well?"

"I- yes." She's moved in with Newt just a week ago - she huffs inwardly; had she not, this would never have happened! 

His expression is unreadable. "A bit too well, I see." 

"I'm really sorry, I overslept today-" A lie's more believable for having some truth in it, isn't it? 

His eyes crinkle in a smirk. "Well, if by  _ overslept  _ you meant  _ fucking my brother _ , I suppose…"

"Theseus!" she protests. "How-"

He shakes his head fondly and points to his neck. She turns and checks her reflection in the full-length mirror across the room - she looks a right mess, her hair is a horror, her shirttails are visible… and she sees Theseus' meaning now. A small but conspicuous red bruise sits just above the neckline of her blouse, and she raises a hand to it. The touch of Newt's lips on her skin still lingers, but she snaps out of it - not here, not in front of Theseus! - and groans. She didn't think this through at all; she casts her mind back to see if she'd considered the consequences of her actions at any point. At the time, she'd been too busy fumbling at Newt's shirt buttons and kissing her way down his chest to think coherently, and when he'd gasped that she'd be late, she looked into his darkened eyes and stated firmly, "I don't care." And she wouldn't have, she decides, if it was merely being late, but evidently not. 

"How much did they see?"

"Oh, not much, you had your coat collar up, but I think even Morgan would notice something's up if you're in your coat all day. Merlin, I didn't know Newt could be  _ that  _ ardent." Edric Morgan is the least observant Auror in the department, and the butt of many jokes. She shakes her head - she's no better than him now. How did she not notice this? And Newt hadn't bothered to point it out; she's going to get him for it later. This is all his fault, honestly, can she be blamed for the way he looked in that sopping wet shirt?

She forces the thought of what exactly 'getting Newt' may entail from her mind and turns to Theseus in a panic. "What will I do now?"

He balls up his scarf and tosses it to her. "Sniffle a bit, and no one should be any the wiser." 

She's about to ask how many times he's had to do that himself, but she catches herself and sighs instead. "This is incredibly unprofessional."

"And who's going to know it?" He raps his knuckles on the wall. "These are soundproof. For all the rest of them know, I gave you a dressing-down." He waggles his eyebrows. "Got the wrong brother, they have." He laughs heartily at his own joke. "Go," he says, waving her off. "Don't worry, you already look the part."

She stumbles to her desk, coat in hand, scarf wrapped securely around her neck. 

"What was that about?" Fawnfellow asks, wincing sympathetically.

"Oh, um, being late."

"That's harsh." He frowns. "You've only been late the one time. You'd think he'd be nicer to you because… because of his brother."

"Yeah, well." She shrugs and turns to her paperwork, coughing.


End file.
